


Whatshisface

by originofabsolution



Category: Green Day
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 03:43:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7829176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/originofabsolution/pseuds/originofabsolution
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Thought I ran into you down on the street<br/>Then it turned out to only be a dream' -Whatsername.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whatshisface

“I thought I saw him again. In the streets outside my house. I was walking, as you do. I stopped to sign some merch for a couple of fans. They chatted to me, saying how they still are massive fans even though the band broke up. I am thankful that we still have some fans who aren’t total arseholes about the break up.” I tell my therapist.

“Saw who Mr Armstrong?” she asks.

“An old friend.” I state.

“Okay. Is this ‘old friend’ connected to why you are here?” I nod “Could you tell me about your troubles which led you to need therapy?”

“All of it?” I ask warily. She nods. I begin to reveal my story...

_“My name is Billie Joe Armstrong, ex frontman of Green Day. 2 years ago we were on a world tour. We arrived in our home country, the USA. We played most of our shows there, everything was going well. Until, I received a call from my son Jakob who was crying, he told me my wife (his mother) Adrienne had been in a fatal car crash with my eldest son Joseph. And neither had survived… So immediately, I arranged for Jakob to travel and stay with me on our tour. I had so much grief. Even with my son in my arms, I felt empty. When I started performing again, that didn’t relieve the pain at all. I was nothing. I stayed out late every night, after shows, days off, the lot. Drinking, y’know… all that stuff. I would always return to the tour bus to see my son sleeping against Mike on the sofa. Waiting for me to come back to him. Mike always held a protective arm around him when he fell asleep before I got back._

_Whenever I did get back late, Mike would shoot daggers at me. He would gently shake Jakob awake, then leave to go to his bunk. I felt so guilty every time I wasn’t there to take care for my son. It was Mike’s second nature to take over and provide what a father should. I was so thankful that he was there for Jakob though._

_One night, I entered the bus and I was surprised to see only Mike sitting on the sofa, watching some reruns._

_“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” I had asked. Knowing if an opportunity for an early night came up, he would take it._

_“I wanted to make sure that you would get back safely.” he said, staring at the tv._

_“That’s sweet. Thanks Mike!” I exclaimed, stumbling into the room and sitting on the sofa beside him._

_“Drink much?” He laughed at my uncoordinated state._

_“Just as much as usual.” I smiled at him. “Y’know, i’m so lucky to have you as a friend Mikey. You keep me right.”_

_That night was the best and worst night of my life. I had slept with Mike. It was great because there was something about him that made my life complete again. But it was bad because it was the beginning of when everything had started to go downhill..._

 

_We continued sleeping together and stuff in secret for months. Those months were the last time that I ever felt complete, the last time I was happy. Like I said, things then turned to shit so suddenly. Mike’s wife somehow found out about us. He had countless arguments, trying to win her back. But she got a divorce and took the kids. I have never felt so guilty in my life, when he told me he had lost custody over his kids. It was all my fault. But there was more to come._

_The band carried on with our world tour, the recent past still lingering over me and Mike. We continued as we did before, playing shows, keeping our onstage personas in check._

_Away from the stage, my relationship with Mike was still good. I often had to comfort him when he was completely stopped from seeing his kids. He told me it was like reliving his childhood. Being separated from his family and having only me there for him. It was sad, but true. On top of all that we had to take a break from our tour. Because Tre was having some family issues of his own, he left to go see his wife. We had no contact with him for weeks. The record company got real up tight that we weren’t making enough money because we put the tour on hold. And Tre ditching us like that, didn’t make our situation any better with them._

_When Tre finally returned to continue the tour, he told us some life changing news. He was leaving the band. His wife had apparently told him that he had needed to get a ‘real’ job. One closer to home, so he could care for his kids. I don’t blame her for wanting to keep him close to his kids, considering what me and Mike had gone through. He said he would do anything for her, so he stuck with that, and officially left. We attempted to continue the tour, just the two of us. It didn’t work at all. So we were forced to call the whole thing off. Once again, not maintaining a good friendship with the record company._

_I tried to write new songs. I had so much to write about. But my mind was continuously blank. After a while of no new material. The company cut off our record deal. This was it, we couldn’t make music anymore. We had blown it.  At this point there was pretty much nothing left of Green Day._

_I had got so angry, I started drinking too much again. Mike was at the receiving end off all my drunken tantrums, rages, arguments, everything. I don’t clearly remember why, but I blamed him for the fall of all our lives. I accused him of the death of my wife and child. I accused him of getting to close to Jakob. I accused him of Tre’s departure. I accused him of the break up with the record company. I accused him of ruining my life._

_He never left me though. I remember the pained look of betrayal every time I shouted at him. He didn’t deserve anything that I done to him. He was the only person I could take my anger out on. He was always there, that was the problem. On occasions I had slapped him or punched him. But he never fought back. If he did, I most probably would have lost the fight and ended up hospitalised. One time things got bad and he walked out on me. Then I got a call that he had been attacked. Which resulted in him having permanent scars over the left side of his chest, where he had to wear a bandage until everything healed._

_So at this point, I had a dead wife and child, no record deal, no drummer for our band, an alcohol problem and I was abusing my best friend who I just happened to love. Pretty fucked up right?_

_We fought on as ⅔ of Green Day to get ourselves back out there to make music. We played small shows in pubs and clubs, a little different to the stadiums we were playing at just a month before. Some nights I was singing and on guitar, and Mike was in drums. Other nights Mike was singing and on bass or guitar, and I was on the drums. Our arrangement was working well. Though we couldn’t work in a proper studio and make albums, we still could make music and play mini shows. That was the last time that I had hope for the future._

 

_We decided to have a holiday, to have some time away from the area that our lives had fallen apart in. So we chose somewhere that hadn’t played shows at for years. Our flight was fine, it didn’t crash thankfully. Knowing our luck back then, it was most likely to crash. We arrived in Sweden, it was beautiful there, Mike had said that we didn’t go there enough. I agreed._

_The first few days there were great, we did some sightseeing, had nice meals. Mike was doing a good job of getting me away from too much alcohol._

_Unfortunately, he wasn’t with me one evening at the bar, so I thought, just one beer. But we all know how that ends…_

_That same night, when he got back from the gym and I had managed to hide my drunken state. He took me out onto the balcony of the room we were staying in. We just talked about how amazing Sweden is and casual stuff. Then he says:_

_“Beej, i’ve got to tell you something.” Instantly I thought ‘he is leaving the band too.’_

_“Okay. I’m listening.” I said calmly._

_“I don’t know about you, but us sleeping together, has been like a relationship to me. And I have realised that we haven’t actually gone out on dates and actually asked each other out. So I would like to ask you out on a date, tomorrow with me.” he smiled and took my hand. I honestly don’t know why, but I found this idea absolutely stupid._

_“A date? How old do you think we are Mike? We aren’t teenagers, if you hadn’t noticed!” I said._

_“But I thought would be sweet gesture.”_

_“We have been best friends for shit knows how long! We don’t need sweet gestures!”_

_“27 years.”_

_“What?” I snap_

_“We have been best friends for 27 years.”_

_“Only you would remember something that soppy.”_

_“I remember everything that ever happened between us.” he says quietly._

_“Now that’s just sad.”_

_“I have loved you since we were 10. How is that sad?”_

_“Actually it’s more like an obsession. You sound like one of those groupies just trying to get in my pants!”_

_“Perhaps you would see my feelings more clearly  if you didn’t have your head so far up your arse!” he says aggressively._

_“That’s low, really low. Even for you. I get that you were left as a little kiddy on a doorstep, but that doesn’t mean the people that take you in love you as much as you do them.” I said pulling a pouty face. His face fumed red and he punched me in the face, making me stumble backwards._

_“That doesn’t make sense to what we are talking about! And don’t you dare talk about that! You know it’s a sensitive subject.”_

_“Just like you, sensitive, emotional. Only behind closed doors when no one can see you at your weakest.”_

_He walked back into the room, slamming the door behind him. Instantly my anger was gone and again I started to regret my words._

_“Mike i’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me” I say following him._

_“You have used that excuse too many times Billie Joe!” he shouts before storming off into the bathroom and locking the door._

_Minutes pass and he isn't responding to me._

_“Mike, please open the door” I plead. I hear a lock click and I slowly open the door, not knowing what to expect. I turn to the left side of the room, were the bath is. He is just sitting there, back against the bath. With his eyes closed and he is breathing heavily._

_“Mike… why do stay with me?” I ask, getting emotional. I hardly ever do this after an argument. I’m normally proud that I hurt the other person. His eyes slowly open, staring at the ceiling._

_“Honestly, I don’t know anymore.” His voice cracks. My heart breaks when I think of him leaving me. He is the only person I have left to care about (other than my son.)_

_“I’m so so sorry.” My eyes well up._

_“I already said you have used that apology too many times.” he mutters, eyes closing again. We sit in silence for a few minutes._

_“Mike?” I ask, hoping he hadn’t decided to die on me._

_“Hmm?” he responds._

_“You didn’t do anything stupid. Did you?” I ask, worrying about his period of self-harm, at the time that stuff happened in his family when he was a teen._

_“Probably.” He says calmly. I quickly kneel beside him, lifting his arms to see how bad. But there is no blood at all, or any recent cuts. Only healed scars. I look at him, confused. “They are here.” he points to the left side of his chest. I put my hand over the area, and he winces in pain. I take off his tank top to reveal his large bandage, ripped apart… And over the area where his chest is meant to be ruined… t-there was so much blood. I felt like I would be sick at the sight. But I kept calm and tried to clean the blood off of his chest. I decided to be silent for a while, I would ask him about this later. I was scared shitless, what if he went back to self harming because of me?_

_Once I had cleaned his chest, I was about to try haul him onto his feet. But I noticed something. That had been covered by the blood, so I didn’t see it before. It looked like a tally, or something like that. On the left side of his chest, over his heart area. I sit on the floor in front of him, to question him about this._

_“Mike. Why did you do this?” I ask quietly. Worried that he would say it was because of me._

_“It felt necessary.” he doesn’t look at me._

_“I get that. But why the tally thing?” I ask curiously, pointing at the cuts. Some look like they are well healed, then there are some that look relatively recent. Then the biggest one, marking the fifth on the most recent tally. The newest one that hasn’t stopped dripping with blood._

_“This?” he points to the same area. “This is the amount of times you have broken my heart. Which is why it is over where my heart is. I think it is rather creative.” he chuckles for some reason._

_“Broken your heart? Could I have a bit more detail on that?” I cringe at what he would say._

_“The amount of times that you hurt me and my feelings so bad, that I couldn’t handle anything anymore. I could have died on you so many times, 25 times to be exact, in the last 2 months. But I didn’t. I restrained from anything too drastic. You wanna know why? Because I couldn’t leave you. I couldn’t do that to you Billie. Today was the last straw though…” he mutters the last sentence. I sit in silence, stunned with guilt and hatred on myself. I had made him not want to be here anymore. He was so close to leaving, 25 times… and 10 minutes ago he was going to do it… because of me._

_I don’t remember much else from that night. But we got into another pretty heated argument. Then he quit the band and walked out on me. And I haven’t seen him since.”_ I explain, I open my eyes. I look up at the therapist with tears in my eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this about a year ago. I'm not sure what the outcome was meant to be, so...


End file.
